Ripples of Humanity
by Lynn's Stories
Summary: A Rerun for the Father's Day weekend. Lee and a Russian Agent find themselves unlikely traveling partners with each needing help from the other to make it home. It's about a father's legacy, spies, catfish, a small boy on a dock... and a moment of humanity to savor. (NOTE: Rated T for a short non-graphic, but palpable torture scene.)


A third season episode. Written for "Boyhood Memories" picture challenge at Seaview Stories, and is the featured "Scene" referred to throughout the story.

 **Ripples of Humanity**

by Lynn

The sound of Lee Crane's parachute deploying was lost in the high opening insertion having jumped from 30,000 feet. He flew his chute heading for a precision landing site, the only plausible zone deemed safe enough to set down without entangling in the nearby forest. The meadow was indeed a small bull's-eye, one which required precision, concentration and skill to land both safely and on target. While the high opening provided a stealthier insertion by eliminating the noise of the deploying parachute, it did require more "hang time" increasing the likelihood of being spotted, necessitating the need for the midnight black chute, black fatigues and black camo grease to prevent the light from glinting off his face.

He spotted his landing zone, checked his altitude and wind drift, then made a calculated adjustment, tugging his chute to catch the wind at the right place and aimed for an imaginary X marks the spot. Within seconds he touched down on target to a soft landing, immediately pulling in his chute while simultaneously perusing his surroundings. It was a clean insertion as Lee hid both the parachute and his pressure suit in a hollow log and sprinted for the cover of the forest. He had just reached the tree line when he turned sharply to scan the sky with intense concern, but the dark night hid what was most certainly another black chute as even from a 4,000 foot HALO jump the sound of the opening chute was unmistakable. He took off running for his objective knowing that very soon the unidentified commando would be on the same trail to the downed aircraft in search of the very same coordinates; the mission had just gotten messy.

# # # # #

Lee sprinted for the wreckage, the wings having been severed by the trees leaving the fuselage protected from the fire. It was a bit of bad luck as even though the pilot had bailed out to safety, satellite photos had revealed the fuselage was still miraculously intact. Unfortunately, the Nav Computers still held the Coordinates for the secret base the aircraft had originated from, this information in the hands of the wrong people could prove dangerously problematic; hence Lee's mission to destroy the computers before the Coordinates could be extracted. It wasn't a far stretch to guess that the Commando currently in pursuit behind him, was sent to stop Lee and retrieve the Coordinates as valuable strategic Intel for a foreign power.

His original plan was to wipe the computers clean in a silent saboteur job while keeping his own presence stealth, that plan however, was quickly and wisely amended to Plan B; setting an explosive device and blowing the entire fuselage to Kingdom Come.

# # # # #

Sergei Vasilyev jumped from 25,000 feet; the sky had been somewhat crowded with the American aircraft just clearing the area. His target already had precious time over him so he changed the plan for a stealthy insertion and opted for the low-opening producing less hang time to make up for the American's head start. He guided his chute with accuracy to a small meadow, no doubt the same landing zone his Target had used and set down quietly while efficiently tugging in his parachute then ran for the tree line, dumping his chute in some nearby bushes.

The Russian Agent's original mission was to retrieve the coordinates from the flight Nav computer, but now he would have to take care of the American before he managed to destroy the computers and all hopes of retrieving the coordinates. His country had long-since believed the Americans operated from an unknown base and this was the perfect opportunity to verify their suspicions, but only if he was successful in retrieving the coordinates.

Sergei was a seasoned agent, blond-haired with a square jaw to match his steel blue eyes. The lines in his face were ruggedly handsome and his command over thirteen languages made him a preferred choice for many under-cover espionage missions abroad. This time however, it was his successful record of completing assignments that drew his name for the operation. He sprinted forward having already checked his bearings upon landing and before long, caught sight of the aircraft up ahead, the shiny aluminum glinting in the half-moonlight even through the cover of the trees. Sergei was barely breathing hard, he was only 26 years old and in excellent physical condition but he slowed his approach as he realized that he should have caught up with the American by now... _the aircraft was just ahead but where was the..._

His silent questions were suddenly cut short by a surprise tackle as he was flanked from the side. A flash of dark hair caught his peripheral vision as he found himself rolling with the impact and then on the receiving end of several blows. Sergei recovered quickly, having learned a long time ago how to ignore physical pain as he issued his own blows to the American Operative who had managed to catch him completely off guard.

They fought in a heated hand to hand combat, rolling end over end, each delivering strong blows and counter strikes to the other's until the Russian reached for a pocket in his fatigue pants, pulling out a dangerous combat knife. He raised the knife ready to strike when his head exploded and his hand went instantly limp.

"Iz-vee-NEE-tye, Comrade," he heard as he caught the hazel green eyes of the American hovering over him before his eyes closed decisively.

# # # # #

 _ **The fight scene expanded from Lee's perspective...**_

The opening of the chute overhead signaled he didn't have much time before the Unfriendly was on top of him. Lee ran the mile to the wreckage weaving in and out of trees with the knowledge that a well-trained operative was on his tail. He definitely didn't need this; one paratrooper was pushing the limits as the country he had just inserted into wasn't on friendly terms with the US. He already knew that soldiers were working their way up the mountain to the crash site and that high altitude winds had prevented a helicopter operation earlier in the day. The mountain was crawling with soldiers, so even if _he_ got in clean it was unlikely that the troops would miss the second paratrooper.

He checked his watch and shook his head, making a strategic decision. He still had to wire the explosives but first he needed to make sure his pursuer didn't derail his mission. He climbed down the craft and peered through the woods, sure enough he caught a glimpse of movement as Lee moved into a flanking position. Within moments his pursuer was on the scene, stopping just short of the wreckage and taking stock of the situation as Lee took that opportunity to attack with a flying leap. He lunged forward, diving upon the black clad commando as the two rolled several times before Lee ended up on top, his surprise attack having produced the advantage he required as he delivered two swift uppercuts that should have sent the commando off to beddy-bye, but instead found himself rolling again this time ending up on the bottom. The blond hair of his attacker glinted in the moonlight, even though his face was greased in camo black as Lee caught the brunt of two rather iron-fisted blows. He hadn't felt solid hits like that for a long time as Lee fought the stars dancing around his head, but worked through the momentary disorientation to kick his leg up, knocking the commando off balance as they rolled once again exchanging body blows and jars to the jaw bone that would have sent most middle-weight contenders staggering to their corners. He was getting the upper-hand having come up on top once again, when he felt the commando reach downward as Lee instinctively knew that if he didn't put his opponent away he might be digging a dagger out of his side or back. He saw the only chance he had of escaping his able opponent and raised the commando by the collar issuing a devastating uppercut while simultaneously allowing his head to whip back, connecting with a rock directly below him.

Lee felt the commando go limp as the knife slipped from his hand, only inches away from a dangerous plunge into his side. The commando's arm fell heavily to the ground, his eyes widening at the realization that he'd been bested by the American as Lee recognized the facial features of his pursuer.

"Iz-vee-NEE-tye, Comrade," Lee said sincerely offering an empathetic "Sorry Friend" knowing the Russian agent was going to wake with one heck of a headache as his eyes closed in a deep unconscious state.

He knew there wasn't much time left, the sun was coming up soon and the troops were no doubt getting closer by the minute. He reached for the Russian's knife, sliding it safely inside his own fatigue pocket and hurried back to the aircraft, climbing up and leaning into the cockpit to finish the wiring. There could be no mistakes, no salvage opportunities for the advancing troops to capitalize on as he wired the explosives directly to the Nav computers. The sounds in the distance were closing fast so he changed the detonation timer to give himself a mere sixty seconds to clear the blast area then activated the device, running toward the Russian agent.

The explosion sent a plume of smoke rising in the air, while lighting up the forest as the concussion hit, throwing Lee forward in the direction of his stride. He rolled several times before recovering swiftly as he reached for the Russian agent, pulling him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and running for the bushes some twenty feet away.

Maybe he should have left the agent there to take the heat for destroying the aircraft… maybe that's how some Operatives would have played it, but this country wasn't any more friendly with the Russians than it was with the Americans; to leave him would no doubt seal his fate to torture and death. Lee didn't wish that on anyone so he took the Agent with him, barely making it to cover before the sounds of the troops indicated they were within range. The bushes offered suitable cover as he crouched low, watching their approach just as the Russian's head turned slightly signaling his wakefulness returning. Quickly, Lee placed his hand over the Agent's mouth and used the other one to signal a silent "shhh" which was met by a simultaneous hand to his throat issued at lightning speed. Both agents silently studied one another, their eyes piercing with intensity, each relaying unspoken demands as Lee made no move to defend himself continuing to signal "silence".

Something registered as Sergei took in his surroundings away from the aircraft and behind bushes, then combined them with the sounds of noisy troops making their way through the woods and issued a slight understanding nod, withdrawing his grip from Lee's throat. Lee likewise pulled his hand from the Russian's mouth and watched the troops from his hiding place, hidden but precarious due to the brightness of the flames still burning, though not as intensely as before. _Perhaps the soldiers would reason that the plane exploded on its own,_ Lee hoped as he watched the situation unfolding before him, silently assessing his options if things went further south than they already had.

# # # # #

The Russian laid completely still to avoid making unwanted noise, while taking the time to recover from the nasty blow to his head and briefly considering why the American had bothered to pull him to safety.

 _Perhaps the American intends on taking me as his prisoner_ , he reasoned silently as his hand slowly reached for his knife, a move the American didn't miss as his eyes briefly shifted to the Agent on the ground and then back to the troops now surrounding the aircraft. Sergei continued his movement until he found an empty pocket, remembering he had lost it in their fight and decided to lie still and regain his strength. For now, it was best to stay off the radar of the soldiers, his presence here would not be forgiven and would certainly not go well for him should he be caught. He could deal with the American later, but for now it was mutually advantageous for both agents to remain undetected.

Sergei couldn't see the troops from his position on the ground and instead took the time to study the American crouched beside him; a seasoned agent for sure having handled his attack so handily. Indeed, most of his opponents went down after two well-placed punches to their jaw. The purple bruise and the dried blood running down the corner of the American's mouth attested to the solid blows he had delivered… he would have to be careful and not underestimate his opponent a second time. Still, the American hadn't killed him, indeed he had apparently carried him to the relative safety of cover… the question was "Why?"

# # # # #

Lee studied the activity before him, for a moment thinking the troops were indeed buying the spontaneous combustion theory when the troop commander suddenly motioned for the soldiers to fan out and check the surrounding woods.

 _This was not good._

He had already gone through his options earlier and decided now was the time to make a break for it and see how far he got. He issued another motion indicating silence as he pulled the Russian Agent's dangerous knife from his pocket, holding it by the blade end and returning it to its owner. Lee motioned a "stay low" sign as the Russian silently turned over ready to do his part but was surprised at the American's next move when Lee rose noisily, exposing his position and running in the opposite direction drawing the soldiers to pursue.

Sergei was confused but a good agent takes the opportunities given him and reasons the rest later so he slipped away, as surely the American intended. He retreated deeper into the safety of the woods then turned to watch as the soldiers caught up with the American taking him roughly into custody and escorting him back to where the troop commander was waiting. His eyes tightened as the commander let his men loose on the operative issuing blow after devastating blow with their rifle butts.

Sergei sighed silently, there wasn't anything he could do against so many soldiers and silently slipped away to the sounds of suppressed grunts for each blow the American received.

# # # # #

It wasn't something he had to think about; just something Lee knew he should do and _not_ because it made sense. It was simply the right thing to do. He was well aware that not too many people would share his assessment but a "scene" etched in his mind always brought him to the same conclusion. He didn't need to ponder the scene, go through a list of pros and cons or take the issue into committee; it was as much a part of him as his command style and even his natural abilities that served him so well in ONI's world of espionage.

So he didn't have to think it through when he decided to give the Russian a chance to survive. The soldiers were already headed their way, they were outnumbered and there were too many to come out on top. The choices were simple: both agents getting caught, which wouldn't help his mission as their captors would surely want to know why two countries had risked so much to get to the crash site first; or lead the soldiers away from the Russian and deal with his own escape later. So he did his best to make a clumsy get away drawing as many soldiers his direction as possible, it was he after all who had rendered the Russian so compromised by what was at least a mild concussion.

He was always optimistic, but deep down inside he knew his chances of survival had just taken a deep dive south as his captors would not find his presence in their country the least bit amusing. Indeed they would be quite determined to discover his true mission, as a secret American base would be most unwelcome news. Lee decided to stick with the story that he blew-up the wreckage to protect the technology of the fighter jet, it was definitely believable and would give him something to "confess" perhaps taking the heat off of a physical interrogation later.

"Hands up!" he heard, his purposeful clumsy escape attempt having done its job, drawing the soldiers from the Russian's position. Lee had no doubt the able agent would use the opportunity gifted him and be gone by the time the soldiers secured the perimeter.

He raised his hands, understanding their language perfectly. Unfortunately his black commando attire along with the black grease smeared on his face offered no doubt he was a spy so he dropped any pretense of innocence and walked forward, as the soldiers poked gun muzzles in his back and pushed him forward causing him to stumble as he was guided back to the commander.

"What was so important that you had to blow up the plane?" the commander wondered out-loud and then looked Lee over. He had no markings on his fatigues, no rank insignias, American flags, naval service pins and no personal identification whatsoever. He was a man without a country if he were caught, a Disavowal Disclaimer having been disclosed and agreed upon before taking the mission.

Lee kept silent, it was too early to even give them his cover story; the game of torture and admission a well-orchestrated gambit that had to be played just right.

"Relieve him of his gear," the commander ordered, addressing the soldiers holding Lee.

His hands were still raised in the air as the corporal began patting down and removing everything in his many pockets then presented the contents to the commander.

"Now spy, allow us to welcome you to our country," he said walking away as the soldiers closed in.

Lee prepared himself by tightening his muscles but was caught off-guard by the initial jab from behind as he took a cruel blow to the kidneys, sending him to his knees where the five soldiers joined in with body blows using their rifle butts. Over and over, they bludgeoned him from all sides as he tried in vain to protect his mid-section and head from the brutal impacts. Each blow produced a grunt of pain as the soldiers sought to both incapacitate and soften up their prisoner for the real torture back at the base. He thought they had done a good job on both accounts but they continued on, their own heavy breathing rivaling their prisoner as Lee was presently trying to draw sufficient air into his lungs.

The blows kept coming until Lee felt the fringes of unconsciousness begin to take him as he lost his peripheral vision in a dark haze. His body went limp as his eyes rolled to the back of his head before the soldiers finally backed off. As his eyelids fell closed the "scene" that guided his decisions, both consciously and unconsciously over the years played out before him. Never once did he think he had acted foolishly by not leaving the Russian to fend for himself while he slipped away to freedom, the scene before him acted as his anchor... _Do the right thing, no matter the cost._ Blackness took him completely, though he was still uncomfortable as they picked him up with unchecked moans escaping even though he was lost in a deep unconscious state where even his dreams couldn't reach him.

# # # # #

Sergei made his way toward his extraction point where he would contact the submarine with his transponder. By now his government would know he had failed, having already noted the explosion from their satellite surveillance. He had over ten miles to hike and plenty of time to think as he rubbed the knot at the back of his head.

 _At least he wouldn't need stitches,_ he mused silently grateful that he wouldn't have to find another hair style to cover the inevitable scar stitches would have produced as in other unfortunate times. He had a nice little headache going that seemed to pound out a matching cadence with his heartbeat, but continued on knowing that he needed a clean getaway to keep from implicating his country in any unauthorized covert action.

He slowed his steps to a walk, confident he had evaded the soldiers and wondering not for the first time why the American operative had carried him to the safety of the bushes, returned his knife, and then made an obvious diversion for him to escape. He had no doubt the American's clumsy run into the forest was meant to catch the soldier's attention; the operative had been good... _very_ good and so his self-sacrifice made no sense what-so-ever to the Russian agent.

Sergei stopped, leaning against a tree as he rested with his escape still fresh. The sounds of the foreign agent's grunts of pain still played in his mind as he took a severe beating, no doubt softening him up for the real torture later. He continued his pace forward thinking through the unorthodox situation, knowing that like himself, the American's government would disavowal all knowledge of his covert actions; that's when Sergei stopped in his tracks.

The American had done his job and could have left him to take both the blame and the inevitable torture. There was no doubt it was coming, the reputation of this country's military ruthlessness was well known among the nations, surely the American knew this as well.

"So the American showed mercy," he concluded in a whisper, but that realization still didn't answer the question that had been gnawing at him... Why?

The Russian took another step forward then threw his arms up in frustrated surrender, resolutely turning a one-eighty and heading back into hell's fire to get the answer to his question, _Why?_

# # # # #

 _ **The "Scene"**_

 _Early mornings were always his favorite time to fish; when the sun was coming up and the air was fresh and cool. It was the best time to think; it was in these times Lee always felt closest to his father. They spent a lot of time out here together as Christopher Crane's schedule of two weeks on and two weeks off afforded him the time to spend hours out on the dock with his son where they talked about everything under the sun and absolutely nothing at all._

 _They were special times, treasured memories now after all those years; little did he know that his father was placing a lifetime of teaching and mentoring into those short nine years before his death. Of course, this dock overlooking the ocean wasn't the only place his father passed on his wisdom but it had become a focal point for Lee over the years. A place to consider what Dad would do if he were here, a place where he felt especially close to Christopher Crane. And it was here that Lee came to terms with his father's death._

" _Why did you run back into that burning building after you rescued the little girl's mother?"_

" _Because my partner was still inside... you never leave your partner behind Lee."_

 _The voice he heard wasn't audible, nor was it a "connection to the other side," a psychotic episode or a supernatural experience. It was simply Lee drawing upon the Legacy his father left behind in every decision, action, and deed he witnessed, being reared by a father who sought to instill the best part of himself into his son._

" _Would you have still gone in if you knew you were going to die?"_

" _No one knows the future, Lee. All I knew was that Fireman Bob didn't have a chance unless I helped. Sometimes it's better_ _not_ _to know, and just do what's right no matter the cost. And sometimes son, we can't help... you don't throw yourself in foolishly, you still need to be wise."_

 _Legacy is a strange and wonderful thing, passed on both with and without words in powerful moments in a child's life, when the most ordinary of circumstances become milestones of character building. Lee realized that his father's death while saving another firefighter's life was the epitome of who his Dad was; never counting the cost but always doing what was right. And so, it was here on this dock that he decided what the kind of man he wanted to be when he grew up. He had the help of Uncle Brian and Grandpa Joe, but it was his father's life lessons played out in memories that shaped him the most. They were cherished memories that he relished and refused to lose to time as he remembered his father's deeds in big things, little things and indeed, everyday things that shaped the life of a small boy._

 _Early morning, with the sun rising on the horizon, glistening off the ocean with the sea breeze blowing and the gulls begging for food... it was the best time to hear his father's voice._

# # # # #

Lee's deep unconscious state gave way to the pain of his recent beating as every bruise, break, crack and bloody laceration gave way to his wakefulness causing him to groan aloud.

"Good you are awake," he heard as he lobbed his head toward the commander, now finding himself tied against a rack in a mostly standing position with his shirt unbuttoned and his chest bare realizing he was about to pay the price for his unauthorized access in his "host" country.

# # # # #

Sergei moved closer to his objective having hiked back to the wreckage and followed the soldiers' well exposed trail back to their compound a good thirty miles inland. Even though he was a good distance away yet, he could hear the screams from the compound; muffled at first as if the victim were trying to stay composed until the pain reached a vortex that demanded an outlet. The screams would fade away and start again; it was the unmistakable sound of torture as the seasoned Russian Agent moved forward, removing any concern or empathy from his thoughts and focusing on his "new" mission.

He finally reached a position where he could see the source of the disturbing sounds that pierced the trees before dissipating through the forest, spotting the American tied to an "X" shaped racked as his captor applied a crude device attached to a portable battery... electric shock Sergei recognized.

"You will not admit you are an American," the interrogator stated adding another jolt of shock before continuing. "You will not admit you had a partner," he said adding a second longer shock that the prisoner endured without crying out.

"So why should I believe that you destroyed the aircraft to protect the technology aboard?" He asked adding a longer shock that finally elicited a cry of pain from the Operative.

The interrogator stepped away from the rack taking a long drink from a flask sitting on a nearby table as the Operative breathed heavily.

"Take him to his cell," the interrogator said with his back still turned toward Lee. "I want him to think about tomorrow and the other 'means' I have at my disposal to encourage him to talk," he finished, turning back toward Lee and holding a wicked looking knife with huge serrated edges, turning the knife to catch the glint of the sunlight intending to elicit fear in his prisoner.

The leather straps were cut as the American was hauled to his feet, but his legs faltered under his weight as he was dragged the rest of the way to the cell.

# # # # #

Sergei watched as the American was hauled to his cell, a small ten by ten foot building with an iron bar door in front and a small barred window on one wall.

 _A sweat box in the day and a freezer at night_ , Sergei reasoned as he settled into a safe spot to stake-out until nightfall. As he studied the compound he replayed the interrogation in his mind. The American had obviously kept his secrets, not divulging his true mission or even confirming his country, he even protected the fact that there had been a second person at the crash site. The Russian's lips pursed tightly as he considered that last thought.

The commander had obviously searched the perimeter of the wreckage and no doubt found the clump of bushes where the two agents had holed up, from there finding two sets of prints in opposite directions. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that there were two agents on the scene. Sergei's eyebrows tightened, filling in the blanks and reasoning that the interrogator surmised the American had retrieved some device or Intelligence matter of some kind and had allowed himself to be the diversion to allow the second agent to escape.

It would have been a good plan, only they weren't partners and there was no Intelligence to whisk away to safety. It still didn't add up in Sergei's book, and the fact that the American had kept his presence here a secret was as much a mystery as why he had pulled him to safety in the first place. It would have been far too easy for the American to rat him out and perhaps take some heat off his torture session, but he hadn't taken the easy way out.

He continued to watch the compound, ever vigilant as he watched the routine of the changing guards, especially around the cell and making sure his own position remained stealth. There wasn't anything he could do until dark; he only hoped the interrogator wasn't planning on any "night work".

# # # # #

Lee was dumped in a cell and immediately curled onto his side, shaking in silent tremors as his body reacted to the abuse rendered it. He was mercifully left alone as he shut out the sounds of the compound to deal with his pain. He needed to recover before he could even take stock of his current incarceration. He planned on looking for possible escape routes later, but for now he had his hands full just concentrating on breathing and pain management.

He was feeling chilled so he rolled on his back and clumsily worked the buttons to close his black fatigue shirt. The camo grease on his face had mostly smeared away, streaked from sweat, pain induced tears, and water thrown on him to keep him conscious. His wrists were bloody from wreathing on the rack and still had the leather bindings wrapped tightly around them. On top of the torture, he still had all the pain from the beating he had endured earlier; indeed every shock contorted his body placing new strain on several cracked ribs.

 _All in all, this has_ _not_ _been a good day;_ he thought wryly drawing on his inner strength to not lose hope by making the extremely over-obvious observation. Indeed, the only thing that _had_ gone right was completing his mission by blowing up the fuselage. In retrospect, it would have been better if the military had placed a precision bomb on the target from altitude, but that would have amounted to an act of war... no his insertion was the only way to protect the secret base while simultaneously keeping the United States "officially" clear of the operation.

His pain leveled out becoming more bearable so he glanced around his cell looking for anything he could use in an escape but found that his cell was completely bare, no cot and not even a bucket to take care of necessities. It was clear the prisoner's comfort wasn't of any concern, not that he expected it to be, but a blanket just now would have been nice.

He was still cold so he curled back into a ball to conserve his body heat and allowed his eyes to close, welcoming a pained but much needed sleep. He had no sooner fallen asleep when his cell door opened abruptly and found himself on the receiving end of a bucket of cold well water, shocking him awake and causing his body to shiver violently.

"Weak American," the guard accused, spitting on his prisoner then walking away in laughter.

Unfortunately, the pattern repeated itself into night fall until the military complex got very quiet. Lee was exhausted and risked closing his eyes once again, grateful that this time his captors left him alone.

# # # # #

The time had come. Sergei had long since stopped trying to figure out what he was doing helping an American Operative escape from his captors. Right now his only concern was getting the American to the relative safety of the forest; he'd figure the rest out later.

The complex settled down with the lateness of the night as even the cell guards laid off the sleep deprivation tactics on the American. The installation was weakly guarded despite the fact that the country had been infiltrated by two foreign agents. Sergei cracked a quick one-sided smile at the arrogance of the camp commander as the cell had only one guard posted. He had watched the sentries for the last several hours; they were predictable and would be busy on the other side of the compound, now was the time to spring the American. He hoped the Operative would show as much resilience in the escape as he had thus far; their chances for survival depended greatly upon a quick and quiet elicitation from the cell.

The guard was easy prey, leaning against the cell wall barely awake. A pebble tossed across the ground was enough to send him dutifully investigating the noise as Sergei neutralized him with a choke-hold, eliciting a forced sleep on the unsuspecting guard. He found the keys and quietly opened the cell door finding the American Operative shivering on the cell floor.

"Comrade," he whispered, using the same title the American addressed him with earlier, while holding a hand over his mouth.

Lee opened his eyes immediately to the hushed whisper spoken in English with a Slavic accent. He registered the hand over his mouth and found the face of the Russian Agent over him, his eyes giving silent instructions that Lee acknowledged with eyes that tightened in understanding. Sergei tilted his head toward the opened cell door as Lee nodded; he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Perhaps the Agent was springing him to take as a prisoner back to Russia, that thought wasn't comforting in the least, but for now missing out on the interrogator's promised knife torture session in the morning was a good thing. He'd worry about escaping from the KGB later.

The Agent helped him stand as Lee used every bit of self-control he had to suppress even the slightest grunt of discomfort. He had stiffened up, his body protesting the sudden movement but even so Lee understood that he'd have to do his part in the escape. The Russian stopped to lock the cell door as Lee noticed that the guard was out cold but still standing and leaning against the wall. He briefly wondered how the Russian had managed that as they made their getaway into the nearby forest; with any luck his absence wouldn't be discovered until the next guard change at day break.

# # # # #

Sergei was duly impressed with the American's resilience. He had taken a brutal beating, evident by a plethora of bruises both on his face and across his middle, his assessment made while Lee was on the rack; not to mention a very long session of shock treatment with the interrogator. Yet, the only sounds emanating from the Operative were his labored breaths as he traveled with one arm slung over Sergei's shoulder. The American was tiring, stumbling as his feet became noticeably heavier. They traveled about two miles from the enemy compound where Sergei thought they were far enough away to give the American a rest, so he picked a tree and lowered the American down to rest against it.

Lee allowed his first suppressed groan to escape, softly spoken as he swallowed hard for the pain.

"Spa-SEE-bah," he thanked the Russian.

"Pa-ZHA-sta," Sergei returned, replying his 'you're welcome'. "But I think you speak very good Russian," the Agent finished in English.

"Almost as good as your English," Lee breathed out, holding his cracked ribs and feeling the multiple burn spots the electric shock had produced. "What now?"

The Russian raised his eyebrow slightly and offered a tight lipped smile. "We get as far away from the compound as we can… I'm making this up as I go along," he finished with his rich Russian accent flavoring their unorthodox conversation.

He helped Lee stand as the Russian and the American continued their long hike, nearly thirty miles to their ultimate objective. They ticked off another mile before Lee's knees buckled and he fell to the ground, despite Sergei's strong hold.

"Here," Sergei offered, pulling a small flask from one of his many pockets and offering Lee a drink of water.

"Spa-SEE-bah," Lee breathed out, taking a small drink then closing his eyes and managing his pain as best as he could.

"I think we are far enough away to let you rest. I am taking the long way around and I do not think they will find our trail so readily."

Lee nodded, but kept his eyes closed until his breathing slowed while mentally keeping track of the Russian Agent as he sat against a nearby tree.

The Agent reached into a pocket a pulled out some sort of high-protein energy bar, breaking a piece off and offering it to Lee, which he waved off at this point.

"We have over 43 kilometers to traverse yet," the Russian spoke up.

"Lovely," Lee deadpanned converting the figure to 27 miles then offered the smallest crack of a smile. "You haven't told me why?" he asked with heavy eyes that he couldn't quite keep open.

"Later," Sergei said putting him off. The American was in no shape for a "heart to heart" conversation and since he hadn't quite figured it out himself he wasn't ready to say much more. "Rest now. I will keep watch," he promised.

"Wake me in ten minutes," Lee suggested, knowing they didn't have the luxury of time for a full restorative sleep, missing Sergei's affirmative nod as he fell instantly into a light sleep.

# # # # #

Lee's eyes popped open to the sound of rifle fire in the distance, miles away to be sure, but not a good sign.

"We must go. They are firing indiscriminately into the forest trying to flush us out," Sergei explained as he wrapped Lee's arm around his shoulder helping him up. "We must put more distance between us and then find a place to hide. We will not make the coast by daybreak."

Lee nodded his agreement and accepted the Russian's aid. The electric shock had completely zapped his reserves but his biggest problem was the internal damage caused by the rifle butt beating, having taken too many blows to his lower back. Still, given enough time to rest he was confident he could hold his own and figure out a way to avoid an interrogation with the KGB or just as bad, a long stay in a Russian gulag.

They moved forward without speaking as day began to break, he was infinitely grateful that his Russian counterpart was on top of his game as he had indeed taken them the long way around, finding a suitable hideaway in a small cave alongside a rock formation. While the enemy was searching the quickest routes to the sea they could hold-out here completely out of sight.

Sergei leaned Lee against the cave wall then ventured back out to block their entrance with brush, returning a few minutes later. The brush covered the entrance but still allowed for the filtered light from the breaking day providing enough illumination to see one another.

"I thought you'd be long gone by now," Lee stated wearily, reclining back with one leg bent the other extended before him.

"I was half-way there," Sergei admitted, taking up the opposite side of the small cave, sitting in a position to the side so that he could extend his own legs.

"So why did you come back?"

Sergei studied the dark haired operative's face, his hazel eyes and features that were long since familiar to him.

"You first," he decided. "Why did you pull me to safety? You could have left me to take the blame for the sabotage," he stated evenly.

Lee studied the Russian, his blond hair, blue eyes and the distinctive lines on his face before answering.

"I did my job and you were no longer a threat to my objective; there was no reason to sacrifice you."

"But perhaps you should have..." the Russian countered. "If you knew who I was, perhaps you would have."

Lee cracked a small smile. "You are Sergei Vasilyev," he said, pronouncing his name with a perfect Russian accent. "You are a KGB Espionage Specialist. You were recruited when you were seventeen years old, before you even finished basic training in the army. You speak twelve, no... thirteen languages fluently and several others enough to get by. You are your country's Go-To man for foreign infiltration, extraction and retrieval and you're very good at what you do," Lee finished, forgoing the rest of the dossier, having demonstrated his knowledge well enough to make his point.

"Impressive," Sergei stated flatly, pulling out the large knife Lee had returned to him before his capture and moving toward him.

"Let me see your wrists," he said without hint to his intentions.

Lee was uncomfortable with the deadly Russian descending upon him and wondered briefly if he was going to have to do the knife torture after all. It didn't add up so he produced his wrists, the bloody leather straps still tied tightly around them as Sergei began carefully cutting them away, speaking as he did so.

"And you are Lee Crane, Operative for the ONI. You speak a dozen languages, mastering at least six of them. Your specialty is extractions, you have a high aptitude for thinking on your feet and are known among the espionage world for your miracle escapes, which by the way I get credit for this time around," he said raising an eyebrow as Lee chuckled. "You are a submarine captain, the KGB knows your home address... shall I tell you about your mother?"

"Not unless you want me to tell you about your father Pavlov, your only living relative..."

Sergei shook his head, unwrapping the last of the leather straps as Lee held his wrists close to him, rubbing the raw areas gently as Sergei returned to lean against the wall, adjusting himself and getting comfortable for the long-haul.

"I also know you that you avoid lethal force whenever possible, but when required are quite efficient."

Lee stared across the small cave, looking deep into the eyes of Sergei Vasilyev.

"So I ask you again," Sergei all but demanded. "Why? You didn't just pull me to safety you sacrificed your position in a clumsy escape move. I know you are a better spy than that."

Lee held his side; his head resting heavily back against the cave wall. He was exhausted but both men had questions they needed answered.

"I knew what they were capable of, not something I'd want for anyone… and I actually didn't _plan_ on getting caught," he qualified with a half-smile. "Now your turn," Lee probed. "Why did you come back?"

It was a simple question, with a seemingly obvious answer but Lee knew that it went against everything he had read in Vasilyev's dossier to have risked his own capture to spring a foreign agent.

Sergei nodded, _fair was fair, he'd answer the question,_ he decided.

"It could have been me on that rack," he answered honestly. "My mission was over, I failed by the way thanks to you," he said rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. "And you were no longer my target," he explained, making sure that Lee knew he wouldn't have sacrificed his mission if there had still been a chance of completing it.

"So what now?" Lee asked again, still wondering if he was Sergei's prisoner or just serendipitous traveling buddies.

"I haven't figured that out yet, for now… we have a common enemy," Sergei answered honestly.

Lee nodded. He still needed that rest before he could handle any confrontation with the Russian and he hadn't decided if their "Mutual Admiration Society" was enough to keep Vasilyev from making up for his failed mission by taking a prized American spy home in consolation. It was a calculated risk he took when he saved Vasilyev; he'd have to wait and see how this all turned out before he judged how bad of an idea that decision had been.

# # # # #

Sergei watched as Crane nodded then slid down the cave wall and curled into a ball, dropping off almost immediately in an uncomfortable sleep judging by the pain lines on his face. The American told him why he had pulled him to safety but it wasn't enough. Vasilyev wanted to know something deeper; he wanted to know what actually drove Lee Crane to become the diversion ensuring the escape of an agent sent to stop him by any means necessary.

The Russian sighed, it had been a long mission and he was working on very little sleep having inserted early in the morning after a long flight to the drop zone. Other than the "unscheduled" nap, courtesy of Crane, he hadn't slept having kept vigil over the cell until he broke the operative out. He listened intently to the sounds outside the cave, satisfying himself that their location was still secure and the troops were likely miles in another direction.

He could afford to catch a bit of sleep as tonight they would make for the coast. It was true what he told Crane, he was making up the rescue as he went along but they both knew there was a decision to be made once they reached the coastline.

# # # # #

 _Here he was again... back at the dock, where even as a young man he still came to "feel" his father's voice deep inside him. The wind blew through his hair, though it was cut very short having had it barbered before he left for Maryland._

" _Well I'm off Dad," he said, speaking to the wind, the gulls, and a few crabs trying to find their way as the tide left without them. "I know it's not the Fire Fighting Academy, but you know it's what I really want to do."_

 _He was heading off to Annapolis and the Naval Academy, a young Plebe to be sure as Lee was only 17 years old, his 18_ _th_ _birthday a few months away yet. He'd been running and lifting weights, trying to stay fit and add weight but was still admittedly thin._

" _I wish you were here," he said wistfully tossing a pebble into the water and watching it produce a ripple as the momentary calm water waited for the next wave to break the shore._

" _You know I'll always be proud of you son."_

 _They were the words he heard his father say many times as a young boy, words that seemed to flood into his heart and soul as he stood there. Somehow he felt those words were meant for him today._

" _I'm going to do my best to make you proud Dad, just like you were still here," Lee finished, then tossed another pebble in watching the ripples spread out in circular patterns until they dissipated, absorbed in the vastness of the ocean surrounding them._

 _He smiled as he turned to leave, it had been awhile since he had visited the dock but it felt right to stop here today and include his father in this very important milestone of his life. Induction Day was only a few days away as he entered the Academy as a Midshipman. He hurried his steps for his last hours of freedom before starting the rigorous training of Plebe Summer._

# # # # #

Lee awoke several hours later and took stock of his physical condition. The sleep had done him good, though not nearly enough he had at least slept soundly. He carefully sat up, leaning against the cave wall and studying the light filtering through the bushes Sergei had covered the cave entrance with. By the light he'd guess it was late morning, his watch had been confiscated by the commander's henchman but he was sure he wasn't far off. They hadn't gotten his ring as he always left that at home when a disavowal was a possibility. He listened for any sounds of movement or anything unusual outside the cave but was relieved to hear only the expected noises of occasional birds and the blowing breeze.

Vasilyev had fallen asleep sitting straight up as Lee took a few moments to study the Russian Agent. He was one of their best agents, a deadly one to be sure. They seemed unlikely traveling partners and yet here they were. He still didn't know if he was the consolation prize or not but was definitely not physically up to attempting an escape. He'd just have to take it as it came and hope that Sergei's good will held up. He had beaten him once, but doubted he could take the able agent now that he was so severely compromised. Something was wrong inside and he was already running a fever, the shock treatment hadn't helped either as he still felt very weak.

Sergei stirred and opened his eyes catching Lee watching him.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Not long."

"You should have woken me."

Lee shrugged his shoulders slightly. "It was my turn keep watch."

Sergei raised an eyebrow and unzipped a pocket producing another protein bar, tossing it Lee's way and taking one for himself.

"Thanks. They emptied my pockets," he explained opening the bar and breaking it in two, saving half for later as he ensconced it into one of his leg pockets.

The two ate in silence, studying one another until Sergei spoke up.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. I'll be ready to move by nightfall."

Sergei raised an eyebrow of measured disbelief as Lee held his ribs protectively while his face was still flushed with fever.

"I'm guessing you have internal injuries," Sergei continued.

"I'll manage," Lee countered, always uncomfortable talking about his health, especially with an agent whose original orders were to eliminate him if necessary to obtain the base coordinates.

Sergei grinned thinly then chuckled. "We play this game well, do we not?" his Russian accent thick despite his good English.

Lee took another bite and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Both of us trying to figure one another out and still do our duties at the same time," he said taking another bite. "I think it is like the cat and mouse games our submarines play underwater," he added, knowing Lee was a sub captain. "We both know each other are there, but we play hide and seek with real weapons as if we are playing a child's game."

Lee kept his face even, knowing it was a dangerous but necessary game they played underwater to patrol the ocean and keep any one country from owning the sea. At any rate, he couldn't be baited into discussing his Seaview or Naval jobs as he sought for a way to move their conversation to more neutral ground.

"Do you do much fishing?" Lee asked in an off-the-wall jump in conversation from where they were previously.

Sergei studied Lee for a moment, his eyes tightening as he tried to determine where Lee was going with the question, then relaxed and sat further back against the wall before answering.

"Not as much as I would like," he finally answered. "You?"

"Same here. I don't get to the mountains much for stream fishing but I like to toss a line from my boat from time to time," Lee replied.

"Do you get out on your boat often?" Sergei asked with a raised eyebrow, barely interested in the conversation but recognizing Crane's diversion tactic.

"Not as much as I'd like."

"Ah yes, you are very busy on that submarine of yours," Sergei replied.

Lee nodded with the smallest of upturns in his lips. Not many espionage agencies connected the dots of who he was, it wasn't like people kept up with captains of submarines, but it made sense that the KGB in their efficiency did.

"And where do you fish?" Lee asked turning the tables and prompting Sergei to talk about home.

"A beautiful lake near my home... _when_ I am home," he replied. "It is a worthy endeavor," Sergei added. "There is a catfish over twenty years old in the lake, he's at least 3 meters long," he continued with the first twinkle in his eye Lee had seen thus far.

"I've heard of them growing that big," Lee joined in glad to find true neutral ground to park.

"I have had him on my hook several times, but _Mamoht_ always manages to get away. He knows I hunt for him, I think this catfish plays games with me," he finished with a grin.

"So it's a challenge," Lee stated with his own smile, recognizing the catfish's name to mean Mammoth.

"The game has brought me many hours of peace. It is a place where the _game_ is not so... deadly," Sergei added not so subtly. "It's a place I think you know," he finished.

Lee nodded, conceding that the world of espionage required a peaceful outlet somewhere... a place where you weren't running for your life or concentrating on a dozen details at once to accomplish your mission... a place where no one died and your lethal hands weren't required to strike.

"I have a similar place," he answered vaguely. "What will you do when you finally reel Mamoht in?" Lee asked innocently.

Sergei blew out a breath and tightened his eyebrows, the conversation now shifting back to the veiled tones of earlier.

"I do not know Comrade. He would make a fine trophy... but then again, if I release him the game can continue."

Lee nodded, catching the double meaning in his words, acknowledging them with an understanding countenance but glossing over the intended warning.

"There's a place I know in the mid-west that fries up the best catfish," Lee said, offering a way to return to safe ground for both of them.

"Ah but you must try them broiled," Sergei offered. "Much healthier," he added. "A good Russian dish."

"It sounds good," Lee said, tiring from the mental games even though the conversation had moved to something lighter.

Sergei noticed Lee's weariness, brought on by more than lack of sleep. The fever was stronger now he surmised; his eyes more glassy and his face still flushed.

"You need more rest to finish our journey tonight," Sergei ordered more than noted as Lee nodded. He was feeling pretty lousy about now as he lay on his side conceding to the wisdom of his counterpart.

"Pretty hard to beat cornmeal battered and pan fried in butter," Lee said with a small grin before closing his eyes. His lighthearted statement meant to cover his concern for the fact that Sergei admitted that he was still considering what he should do with Lee. There was no way he was taking a trip to Russia, so he forced himself to rest hoping he'd be able to find a miracle escape out of this one.

# # # # #

Sergei watched Crane drop off to sleep and ran a tired hand across his neck.

 _How much did he owe the American?_ he wondered silently then shook his head.

All he had to do was look at the man; his wrists chaffed and bloodied from writhing on the rack, his body black and blue, his face bruised, and whatever else was happening on the inside. He remembered well the sounds the electric shock produced as he neared the military complex and already knew his answer. Crane didn't just make a casual effort to save him, it was a concerted, purposeful act of humanity... not something spies in the field experienced often; perhaps something he might never see again.

He adjusted himself against the wall trying to get comfortable and considered that they hadn't gotten nearly as far as he would have had he been on his own last night. They still had nearly twenty miles to reach the coast, an easy trek for him alone but judging by Crane's current condition he had his doubts they'd make it in one night.

It would be an interesting debriefing when he returned home, explaining why it took him so long to fail the mission and then return to his extraction point. Sergei tilted his head back heavily against the cave wall as he pondered the mission. He didn't fail often, he was in fact known for getting the job done and had the scars to prove it.

Crane shifted to his back, his sleep marred by pain as a small moan followed his movements. Sergei couldn't help but wonder what his superiors would think about him taking the time to rescue the American Operative and if _not_ bringing home this prize would be an even greater disappointment than not confirming the secret air base. It would be a fine way of thanking a man who could have left him for the torture rack and got clean away, but what was his duty?

# # # # #

Night fell and the darkness once again provided cover for the two spies to move toward the coast where each had a submarine waiting for them. Lee had rested the entire day and had for the most part recovered from the worse of the shock treatments, but was still sorely compromised by the beating he took. The cracked ribs he ignored but the pain in his lower back signaled more than bruises as his fever continued to grow. He moved under his own power however, willing to do his part in his own escape and not one to become a burden unnecessarily upon another operative.

They didn't speak to one another to keep their presence stealth and took only short breaks, still the twelve miles they traveled were much slower than Lee was normally capable of as Sergei stopped in his tracks and looked around.

"This will do," he stated finding another rock formation with a natural overhang; not quite a cave but it would provide shelter and be stealth enough once brush was put in place.

"We still have time, I can keep going," Lee countered, leaning against a nearby tree.

"I doubt it," Sergei answered. "Besides, this is good shelter we may not be so fortunate up ahead."

That was good enough for Lee, he was at the end of what his fever racked body could put out and he had so far managed to travel without Sergei's aid. He helped to secure their new hideout with the appropriate brush and gratefully picked a spot to stretch across, curling to curb the pain in his abdomen which had begun to rival the pain in his lower back.

Sergei positioned himself in his own spot and made eye contact with Lee, catching him in a grimace.

"How are you doing?" the Russian agent asked almost in passing.

"Ya-fpha-RYAT-key," Lee breathed out.

"I doubt very much you are 'fine'," Sergei replied with a slight scoff. "You are passing blood?" he asked without more detail but Lee understood exactly what he meant and answered with a slight nod.

"We will make it tomorrow," Sergei encouraged, impressed that they had gotten this far and that Crane had kept up as well as he had with the obvious kidney trauma and apparent internal bleeding.

"I'll be alright," Lee responded then closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him. The sun broke through as night time gave way to morning but the dark headed operative missed the glorious light show as he curled tighter into a ball.

# # # # #

 _It had been a while since Lee had been back to the dock, his duties in the Navy kept him away from "home," and home was now officially in Pearl Harbor. He came just to soak in and feel the many moments of years past and try to capture some of the wisdom he used to find here as a child._

" _They gave me my own boat, Dad," he thought silently picking up a pebble and rolling it around in his fingers as he gazed out to the sunrise just breaking the horizon._

" _They're giving me the Baton Rouge; it's a new Los Angeles Class attack sub. You should see her; she's got all the bells and whistles..."_

 _It was the pinnacle of his naval career, to be commanding his own submarine. He was in fact the youngest full Commander in the fleet and the youngest man to Skipper a nuclear submarine. He received this unusual and quite early promotion after taking the helm of the ballistic submarine where he was serving as the XO when the captain's appendix burst. It was a most inopportune time as they were in the middle of Inserting an ONI Operative for a timely and very important secret retrieval mission off the Siberian coast. The fact that the Navy was enlisting a ballistic sub for the venture was more than unusual; it was unheard of as her nuclear payload demanded secrecy not to mention the fact that she was larger and less agile than the preferred fast attack subs for this type of work._

 _They managed to surface in international waters long enough for Captain Derrick to be retrieved by a helicopter in a daring rescue operation performed under the cover of night; it was at that time that Lee received his orders to act as captain for the duration of the mission. His skill at handling the ballistic sub was never in question, but his ability to maneuver the large sub had been a surprise to everyone as he skillfully played a very tense game of hide and seek with a Russian attack sub patrolling its coastline. When the dramatics were over with the Operative safely retrieved and his mission complete, the reports started rolling in and the Navy realized they had a "Natural" on their hands. His career was already on the scope of several officers on the promotion board and his handling of the unorthodox mission only confirmed what they already knew, as very few commanders could have put the boat where Crane had to evade the Russian sub. By the time Captain Derrick was well enough to return to the sub; Lee had been promoted and was waiting for his boat to be assigned. It was a whirlwind of events to be sure, to find himself now being trained for his new post._

" _I don't know why... but I miss you more today than I have in a long time," his introspective thoughts continued as he continued to roll the pebble around in his hand. "I just wish we could have shared this moment together," he finished and then threw the pebble as far as he could as the low tide had withdrawn the water from the dock. He couldn't see the ripples the pebble created once it impacted the water but he knew they were there. He soaked in all the memories he could, all the wisdom his father had given him in those nine short years and breathed out with satisfaction, knowing that everything his father had to give him had already been downloaded long ago. He was grateful for his father's legacy knowing he would need all the wisdom he could get as he started this new venture as the Captain of the Baton Rouge._

" _Thanks Dad," he said aloud and turned to leave, his sharp white service dress producing an impressive, if not elegant form. He squared his service cap confidently on his head and walked across the dock, ready to embark upon this new challenge in his life._

# # # # #

The heat emanating from Crane's face was felt even before Sergei made contact, gauging how high the fever was with the back of his hand. Lee's eyes popped open immediately as Sergei retracted his hand and sighed.

"We are out of water and you will dehydrate without it."

"I'll be alright. Too risky in the daytime..."

"I do good work, even in the daytime," Sergei replied with a knowing one-sided smile, as if accepting the challenge of the daytime excursion.

He slipped out as Lee rolled to his back and pushed himself to a sitting position intending to keep track of how long Sergei was gone. The troops were still out looking for them and the fact that they had lost not one, but two operatives would demand an intense ongoing search.

# # # # #

Sergei moved quietly from their makeshift hide-away moving from cover to cover then stopped to listen for the water source he had heard in the dark. He gauged it was a stream, within a mile of their current position and moved toward his goal with his flask tucked into one of his pockets. He realized the safest thing to do was to stay put, but Crane had done his part last night traveling without complaint and he knew that tonight's travel would be greatly impaired if the American deteriorated any further.

Helping a fellow countryman to safety was reasonable, but to go to these lengths to save an operative he could very well meet in the future on opposing sides of a mission was very nearly ludicrous. Still, Sergei had his own sense of honor and duty using far too much of his own reasoning for his superior's likings, but they couldn't fault the efficiency of his work. He was effective and very deadly when necessary, that part hadn't changed just because he now found himself traveling with the American. Besides, their two countries weren't officially at war and had even managed to work in cooperation on several key missions, but everyone knew that the two growing super powers didn't trust one another as much as their diplomats insisted.*

He moved along with his surroundings completely at his command and found the stream. It had been quiet but he wasn't taking anything for granted. It was clear by the interrogator's questioning that they knew about the second agent, Crane's escape only proved it further. He expected that the interrogator would be keen on retrieving both men.

Sergei followed the stream until he found a place where the water flowed rapidly over the rocks and filled his flask from there, then added a chlorine tablet to neutralize the remaining microbes and slid the flask securely into a pocket at his calf. He rose from his crouched position when the quiet forest was disrupted by the explosive sound of a gunshot accompanied by the searing pain of a bullet ripping through his side nearly simultaneously.

He spun with the momentum of the bullet but reached for his sidearm, by the time he completed a full revolution he had drawn his gun and found his target on the ridge. His aim was true and deadly as he took the kill shot, negating the inevitable scream as the guard fell silently to the valley below.

Sergei held his side and headed back to the hideaway, on the lookout for more unfriendlies. If he were lucky, the soldier was part of a passing patrol and hadn't alerted his comrades yet. It was wishful thinking, but perhaps he had enough time to return before the woods were crawling with soldiers. He started the mile hike back, nearly getting there before he stumbled and fell hard to the ground. The bullet was fired by a high-powered rifle, ripping through his side and making a nice big hole in the exit wound through his back. He breathed heavily trying to rise and make it to the safety of cover but fell back down losing consciousness.

# # # # #

Lee was sitting against the rock face, resting but aware of his surroundings when a rifle shot jolted him as his eyes popped open at the unmistakable sound. His watch had been confiscated by the troops but he'd been mentally keeping track of Sergei's absence and decided this wasn't good. A second small arms shot confirmed his supposition as he rose from his spot using the rock face to steady himself. He listened by the opening of their make-shift cave and waited, judging by the sound of the gunfire how long it would take the able Russian agent to return. After an estimated eight minutes he made his decision, sleeking past the bushes in the direction he thought Sergei had taken.

He too heard the sound of running water last night and headed in the direction of the stream looking for signs of Sergei. His search was rewarded about a half mile from the hide-out when he found Sergei lying face down on the ground. Lee spotted the blood on his back and turned him over spotting the second wound on his side. Sergei moaned slightly then reined it in realizing that it was Lee who had found him.

"Come on, we've got to get you back," Lee said, picking up Sergei's sidearm and helping him to stand while ignoring his own discomfort for the moment.

"Did you neutralize your target?" Lee asked going all-spy.

"Affirmative," Sergei breathed out, holding his side as he leaned heavily on Lee. "He was on the ridge and fell."

"Should hold them off for a bit," Lee said, reasoning that the longer the soldier remained missing the better their chances. He scanned their surroundings while listening carefully for more unfriendlies as they traveled back to the rock formation, determining it was safe to enter once they reached the hide-out.

He lowered Sergei down then immediately patted his legs down feeling for and finding what he was looking for in a leg pocket pulling out a small roll of duct tape, no decent spy left home without it. He pulled the water flask from another pocket and rolled Sergei to his side so he could treat his wounds. Lee tore his shirt tails to provide make-shift bandages, using the flask of water to wash the wounds of the blood and debris then patting them dry before applying duct tape tightly over the "bandages". Sergei fought back the discomfort of the first aid, closing his eyes to manage the pain.

"That will hold you for a bit," Lee announced as he stood.

"Where are you going?" Sergei asked, trying desperately to hold on to consciousness.

"To clean up whatever blood trail we left behind. Just stay put till I get back," Lee ordered more than suggested and left stealthily as Sergei considered how fast the tables had been turned on this rescue.

# # # # #

Lee followed their steps back into the forest looking for blood drops, broken twigs and scuffle marks on the ground. He used the dirt from the forest floor to cover drops of blood and wiped the occasional drops off of bushes and leaves, erasing the trail back to where he found Sergei. Unfortunately, the amount of blood where he fell would be difficult to eradicate so he did the next best thing, creating a false trail in a tangent direction then circling back to the stream where the trail could be lost. Satisfied that he had protected their hide-out he circled back for the rock formation, finding Sergei trying to rise.

"Ne-dvi-gats-ya," Lee said instructing Sergei 'not to move' and filling him in as he helped the agent back down.

"I erased the trail and created a false trail should they come looking for you."

"Some rescue, eh?" Sergei jested, his pain evident as Lee settled in against the wall with the Russian's sidearm tucked into this belt. His face was still flush but he had managed to put it all aside to deal with the emergency at hand.

"We have three or four hours of daylight yet. You rest, I'll keep watch," Lee promised as Sergei raised an eyebrow but kept his protests to himself, realizing that the blood loss had adequately diminished his resources. He nodded and closed his eyes as Lee rested his head against the rock face listening for possible sounds of approaching soldiers.

# # # # #

 _Lee Crane walked slowly to the dock. It was early morning and he was only home for a short visit since Seaview was currently docked at Groton. It was only an hour and half drive and so he had taken the opportunity to visit his mother... he didn't do that often enough he realized. Besides, he needed this visit to find his center and make some sense out of life._

 _He had finished his debriefing in Washington and Seaview's repairs were nearly completed after being attacked with depth charges on their latest mission. The State Department was pleased; D'Alvarez had been put out of commission and President Fuentes had been freed, though his country was still locked in a civil war he would be able to work safely from the outside. But everything wasn't well; there's something about hearing your crewman beg for you to save their life as they are being dragged away to a firing squad that a man can't get over... no matter how many "well dones" and "there wasn't anything you could have done differentlys"._

 _They were right of course, what could he had done differently? He was being held prisoner at gunpoint when Farrell was taken, but even so the young man's screams still haunted him. He looked for an opening and attacked D'Alvarez, it seemed Kowalski and Patterson were getting the upper hand with their guards until the General squirted a chemical into Lee's eyes blinding him in excruciating pain. He could still hear the sound of the firing squad delivering their deadly aim; though he couldn't see at that point he knew Farrell was dead. It weighed heavily on him, he'd lost crewman before as life at sea was a dangerous venture, not only in the navy but on Seaview where they seemed to tangle with the enemy often as ONI activated the Boat into service from time to time._

 _Lee arrived late last night, staying up late to catch up with his Mom, but never opening up to the burden he was bearing. He arose early the next morning preferring this particular time to visit the dock; when the sun rose on the horizon. These were the times that brought him closest to his father's memories as this was the time of day they would fish together as a child._

 _Lee walked slowly across the wooden dock, he was breaking military decorum walking outside without his cover and uniform jacket but right now he wasn't feeling too navy, just... tired. He stood for a few minutes, not really seeing the sun peeking up over the horizon, the glorious ocean view or the gulls flying overhead. He was still lost back in that cell, listening to the firing squad snuff out the life of a crewman who depended on his captain to keep him safe._

 _His fists opened and closed as his eyes squeezed tight, hearing over and over again the fire squad mixed interchangeably with the sounds of Farrell calling his name... "Captain Crane!"_

 _His torment reached a crescendo until the sounds meshed unrecognizably, where he couldn't tell where the rifle fire left off and Farrell's screams began. The confusing sounds nearly causing him to raise his hands to cover his ears when it was all interrupted by a memory flooding into his awareness taking instant control over the torment…_

 _##_

" _Dad... did you know the fireman that died?" Lee asked tossing his line out as his father baited a hook._

" _Yeah... I knew him. His name was Sam, he was good guy."_

" _When he fell... there wasn't any way to help him?"_

" _I'm afraid not Son. We tried... we tried to reach him in time. I was reaching for him when he fell."_

 _Lee's eyes tightened in sadness, trying to understand at such a young age how his father's work could save so many lives and yet be surrounded with danger and death at the same time._

" _But I bet you tried real hard," Lee said finally. "I bet if you could have, you would have saved him," he said resolutely._

 _Christopher Crane nodded then dipped his head, suppressing a tear that forced itself out and slid silently down his cheek._

" _I did try Lee, I've thought about it over and over. I don't how I could have gotten there any faster."_

 _They sat a moment longer in silence till Christopher side cast his rod and played the line out a little further watching his bobber absent-mindedly._

" _Dad?"_

" _Yes Son."_

" _You told me once that you can't save everyone; that sometimes people die."_

" _Yes, I remember telling you that."  
_

" _Then it's like you said... 'All we can do is our best'."_

 _Christopher smiled and chuckled lightly._

" _So when did you get to be so grown up?" he jested lightly with his son as Lee looked up to his father and smiled heaving his shoulders in a "I don't know" move._

 _They continued fishing, not a bite or a nibble on either rod, but neither one cared._

" _You know what Dad?"_

" _What Lee."_

" _When I grow up, I want to be just like you."_

 _Christopher reached over and pulled his son close as Lee dropped his rod on the dock and climbed into his dad's lap for a long strong hug in his father's arms. Christopher held on tight, letting the tears flow from his own pain of losing both a friend and a fellow firefighter and letting the unconditional love of his nine year old son lay a soothing coat of balm over his wounded heart._

 _He hugged tightly until he heard the sound of Lee's rod sliding across the dock; with lightning fast reflexes Christopher reached and grabbed for the fishing rod._

" _You've got a whopper Son!" he shouted, his strong emotions morphing into delight as he watched Lee reel in a nice catch. He smiled, purposing not to miss the simple pleasure of the moment and allowing the pain to recede so that he could attend to the most important job of all, being a father._

 _##_

 _Captain Lee Crane heaved heavy shoulders and sighed. It seemed he was wiser as a nine year old than the 31 year old he was now. "All we can do is our best..." it was good advice he gave his father that day, if only he could take that same advice now._

 _Lee turned leaving behind the memories of the nine year old pulling in the big catch on the pier that day. His head dipped and his forehead crinkled in the pain he still carried. The issue wasn't just Farrell's death; it was the weight of command because he knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd have to deal with losing a crewman. He took a few steps then squared his shoulders, straightening and walking tall determined to get through the pain for his crew's sake. Their next assignment was navigating a deep trench in the Pacific and Seaview deserved a captain who was on his game._

 _Lee left the little boy behind on the pier and headed back inside to grab his cover and uniform jacket; he had a plane to catch and after that one of the most difficult duties of a commanding officer... a courtesy call to Mr. and Mrs. Farrell._

# # # # #

It wasn't that Lee felt well or even better for that matter; it was just that he needed to step up to the plate and get the job done. Sergei had gotten them this far, it was up to him to get them the rest of the way home. If they were lucky they would each be on their own submarines, lying in sickbay and sleeping off the mission by early morning.

Lee woke Sergei with a gentle nudge, he'd lost a lot of blood with the high caliber bullet ripping clear through his back and leaving him very weak. Sergei woke instantly assessing the situation and barely making out Lee's form in the darkness.

"It's time to go," Lee advised helping him up. He knew the Russian agent wasn't used to accepting help so he backed off as much as possible but ended up throwing his arm over his shoulder for support. Sergei reluctantly accepted Lee's aid as the two began what they hoped would be the last trek of their journey.

They covered the miles slowly as Sergei held his side, while Lee ignored his own pain and lack of energy from the internal infection raging through his body. They were less than two miles from the coast when they took their third break, very unusual for both spies who were used to trekking twenty miles in one night with relative ease.

"How are you doing?" Lee asked quietly.

"I have been better, I'm sure you have too," he said turning the question right back to Lee.

"What this? Par for course," Lee quipped to Sergei's raised eyebrow, unfamiliar with the English phrase.

"I guess I've got a knack for coming back in need of a band aid," Lee explained.

Sergei nodded with an understanding smile. "Ah yes… par for course," he repeated, indicating that he too found himself in similar need of band aids as it seemed to come with the territory when one gives their all for a mission.

"Come on. We're less than two miles by my reckoning," Lee said helping Sergei back to his feet.

From that point on the only sounds they made were their labored breathing with each one doing their part to make sure the other didn't have to carry them. When they finally reached the shore they both dropped to their knees in exhaustion. They were nearly there, still hidden in the bushes but only ten feet or so from the rocks where they would find cover. From there they would signal the boats and move across the sandy shore once their zodiacs arrived.

"You have a transponder?" Sergei asked knowing Lee's gear had been confiscated.

"Da," Lee answered with a small grin, glancing down at his boot.

Sergei nodded in understanding as Lee reached for the sidearm still tucked into his belt, handing it butt first to its owner. Sergei took the gun, looking at it as if contemplating something important.

"You know the funny thing about that old catfish?" he asked still looking at the gun. "He keeps coming back to play the game even though one day I may snag him in such a way that I can't release him," Sergei said hypothetically speaking of hooking the fish and injuring it beyond survivability.

Lee nodded, understanding the double meaning in Sergei's words regarding the two spies and what their next meeting might entail.

"Still, he keeps coming back to play the game with me. He is either very smart… or the dumbest fish in the lake," Sergei finished with a smile as he tucked the gun back into its holster.

"I'd prefer to think it's the former," Lee added with a grin.

"Then here's to the game, Comrade," Sergei finished extending a hand, both men acknowledging that should they meet again on opposing sides of a mission they each would do their duty.

"Take care Comrade," Lee offered as the two spies clasped hands then headed down opposite sides of the beach to call their respective subs.

They parted ways putting only a quarter mile between the two of them and activated their transponders. They were in the national waters of an unfriendly country and no doubt each submarine commander was well aware of the presence of the other. However, it was a safe bet that there would be no temptation to risk an engagement of any kind as the two submarines acknowledged one another with single pings, then slowly surfaced to retrieve their operatives. The commanders of both the American and Russian submarines were on high alert, but they weren't at war and exhibited cool heads as each one played the latest game of wit and steel nerves with their counterparts.

Each sub launched a zodiac, having already scanned the beach with infrared and determining the only heat sources nearby were the two agents, each waiting for their ride home.

"If only I had a picture of _this_ ," Lee mused silently as the half-moon silhouetted two conning towers a quarter mile apart. He watched as his zodiac reached shore and gratefully jumped in, welcoming the warm blanket placed on his shoulders.

"We were beginning to worry Sir," a SEAL whispered as the zodiac turned and headed swiftly back to the waiting sub while the rescue commandos kept a close eye on their counterparts doing the same.

Lee could barely make out the forms in the Russian boat but somehow spotted Sergei, sure that the Russian Agent had spotted him as well. Each spy sat watching the other across the waves of the sea separating the two great military powers; with each man silently wondering what their after action report would look like this time around.

The zodiac bobbed against the sub as the sailors worked quickly to secure the detail.

"Permission to come aboard," Lee requested, engaging in the time-honored tradition of Navy ships and boats, still clutching the blanket tightly about his shoulders.

"Permission granted, Commander. My name is Hernandez, the XO. Captain Marshall sends his regrets as he is a little busy right now with our "new found friends" out there. In the meantime, "Doc" here will get you fixed up in Sick Bay." Having 'business' taken care of Hernandez reached over for a handshake which Lee took readily. "Boy Sir, I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you give _your_ briefing!" They both chuckled lightly then descended the conning tower hatch where Lee was only too happy to find the Sickbay bunk waiting for him.

# # # # #

 _Lee sighed a breath of satisfaction as he dangled his legs over the side of the dock, while his father did the same._

" _Dad?"_

" _Yes Lee."_

" _These are the_ _best_ _times. Will it always be like this?"_

" _Life has a way of changing Son, it won't always be like this but whenever you need to feel the peace and security of this moment you can always return," Christopher advised as he lightly touched Lee's forehead. "It will always be here in your memories," he said with a soft smile, "And here..." Christopher added, moving his palm to Lee's chest, "...in your heart."_

 _Lee smiled offering a one-sided shrug, knowing his father had imparted something special but not fully understanding the significance just yet. But over the years he would return here to the dock, both physically and in his memories to glean the wisdom left behind by his father, allowing his legacy to shape him into the man Lee wanted to be... just like his Dad._

# # # # #

Sergei clutched his blanket tighter about his shoulders and watched as the American returned to his submarine. He still didn't know what drove Lee Crane to pull him to safety then act as a diversion, resulting in his own capture and torture session but concluded it was simply who the man was. It was a strange combination for a spy, deadly skills with a touch of humanity… an oxymoron even, yet he had witnessed it for himself.

 _Perhaps_ _he_ _was just as "guilty" of a selfless act of humanity_ , Sergei reasoned silently about his own decisions on this mission. Crane would have made a fine consolation to make up for his failed mission, but somewhere along the way they had found something better, something worthwhile to pursue if only for a few days. He would return to the homeland he loved and continue to accept espionage missions striving to be his country's finest agent. But when he was sitting on his row boat out in the middle of the lake trying to snag a twenty year old catfish, he would remember the able agent as a comrade. The game would go on, and just like his enduring game with his respected adversary of the lake, Sergei hoped that both he and Crane would continue to survive to play the game another day.

# # # # #

Both operatives reached their submarines and were quickly whisked away to the safety and care of their sickbays as the sub commanders dove quickly and silently, each offering a single "ping" in acknowledgment of their mutual appreciation for the retrieval of their men without incident. As each boat submerged silent wakes dissipated into the vastness of the ocean around them… but not before the wake of each submarine touched the other, momentarily joining as if to acknowledge the unspoken moment when the ripples of humanity won out over power and politics.

 **The End**

# # # # #

 **Author's Notes and Credits:**

This story contains scenes, plots and paraphrases from the first season episode, _Mist of Silence_ , written by John McGreevy, directed by Leonard Horn, original air date October 5, 1964.

*Irwin Allen avoided much of the conflict of the world politics of the day by placing Voyage twenty years into the future. Hints of the cold war existed in episodes such as _The Human Computer_ , but were non-existent in other episodes such as _The Machines Strike Back_. I have therefore, kept with the universe Irwin created in this story with only hints of the real-world cold war of the era.

Part of my Legacy Trilogy, featuring three unrelated stories all exploring the legacy a father leaves behind: _Legacy_ (posted 5/2013 and Revised 11/16/15), _Ripples of Humanity_ (11/16/15), and _Passing the Torch_ (6/18/16), posted at Seaview Stories.

 **P/S** – The new story is still on its way, it's just bigger than I originally thought it would be. : )

Copyright 2015, 2017 All Rights Reserved

 **Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and her main characters belong to Irwin Allen**


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